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Hatchardson and all the old ladies who were in the bookstore making purchases congratulated me. It was evident that in Miss Briggs they took much more than a perfunctory interest. They were very fond of her. She was an institution; and I could see that as such to visitors she would be pointed out with pride, as was the new bronze statue of the Whaleman in Court House Square.
Hatchardson. But, at his next words my interest returned. Still smiling, he lowered his voice. "Miss Briggs, the young lady who just left us," he said, "is the granddaughter of Captain Briggs, and she does not want the book to go out of the family; she wants it for herself." I interrupted eagerly. "But it is for sale?" Mr. Hatchardson reluctantly assented. "Then I will take it," I said.
Hatchardson had told her I had purchased the "Log" and at her loss her very lovely face still showed disappointment. Toward me her manner was distinctly aggrieved. But of the "Log" I said nothing, and began recklessly purchasing post-cards that pictured the show places of New Bedford. Almost the first one I picked up was labelled "Harbor Castle. Residence of Fletcher Farrell."
I was afraid to look at her lest my admiration should give offense, so I pretended to admire the book. "It is the only one in existence," said the young lady. "At least, it is the only one for sale!" We were interrupted by the approach of a tall man who, from his playing the polite host and from his not wearing a hat, I guessed was Mr. Hatchardson himself.
He looked from the book in my hand to the lovely lady and said smiling, "Have you lost it?" The girl did not smile. To her, apparently, it was no laughing matter. "I don't know yet," she said. Her voice was charming, and genuinely troubled. Mr. Hatchardson, for later I learned it was he, took the book and showed me the title-page.
Fifty dollars is a great deal of money, but the face of the young lady had been very sad. Besides being sad, had it been aged, plain, and ill-tempered, that I still would have bought the book, is a question I have never determined. To Mr. Hatchardson, of my purpose to give the book to Miss Briggs, I said nothing. Instead I planned to send it to her anonymously by mail.